Waste Not
by spikala
Summary: On Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre, Nala Se and her faithful clone aide Essix struggle to keep injured clones from being reconditioned. However their task is about to get much harder with the arrival of an Auditor from Kamino. Features minor canon and OCs. Chapter 7 - Jud and Hops enter the simulator.
1. One Less for Kamino

_Big thanks to Jade Max and Warren for their help and feedback with the story. _

_I should warn you now, if the blurb didn't give it away, that this story will be dealing with the issue of forced-euthanasia and there will be some swearing - that's why this story is T-rated. If you aren't comfortable with that, perhaps the back button might be appropriate :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter One – One Less for Kamino **

_._

_Reconditioning was never meant to be a death sentence. The man who originally proposed it thankfully did not survive to see the travesty that Tipoca City Administration made of his suggestion. _

_Any manufacturing process is bound to produce some defective product. It is inevitable. What is different about industrial cloning is that new uses can be found for sub-standard units. The adaptability of the Jango units has been established in earlier studies, notably the Command Clone study (File __XB/A/234.179__) from 18,968 post-Flood. So there really is no need to cull units unless absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, the Administration has taken a narrower view of the subject. _

_Only time will tell if they discover my deception._

—Private memoirs of Nala Se, Administrator of Kaliida Shoals Med Centre. 18,978 post-Flood.

* * *

.

Life was unusually quiet on Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre. In the station's tiny hydroponic section, tucked away amidst the lush foliage, Essix, Chief Aide to Administrator Nala Se, was taking full advantage of the lull in activity and enjoying a fragrant cup of kopi tea while he sorted through the mountain of datafiles that required his attention.

Essix leafed through another couple of patient files, noting that these troopers had been cleared for duty—green across the board—and were due to ship out within the next seven-day. All of the less severely injured clones from the recent Republic engagement had already been returned to their units. Now the patients who had been more seriously hurt were starting to follow suit. Most were now in the final stages of recuperation, awaiting final medical clearance. The Grand Army never stood still, not with the war heating up by the day and the casualties mounting. Infantry companies were being cobbled together out of any troopers able to carry a rifle. Naturally, there was a mess of datafiles and bureaucratic work to accompany the chaos.

The door to the hydroponics section squeaked as it slid open, making him jump. Essix quietly cursed himself for a less than commendable display of self-control and made a note on his datapad to get that door serviced as soon as possible— the servomotors were obviously on the blink.

An armoured trooper carrying a medic's backpack came through the opening, his helmet tilting to and fro as he looked around. After a beat, he gave up his search and came over to Essix. Essix frowned slightly; he didn't recognise the man. He must be the replacement for Maret who'd been seconded to an infantry company a few days ago.

The medic snapped out a crisp salute. "Excuse me, sir."

Essix sighed inwardly even as he stood to return the salute. _This is a medical station, not the front lines. You don't need to salute._ "How can I help you?" he asked.

The medic popped his bucket off, the seals hissing slightly as he did so, and tucked it under an arm. "I've just been transferred to this med centre and I was told to report to Chief Aide Essix, sir. I was informed that he was in here." The medic looked nervous; his first task in his new posting was going awry. It was obvious that this one was going to have a tough time adjusting to the less-martial atmosphere of Kaliida Shoals.

"You're speaking with him," Essix said mildly.

The man's eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets, but as Essix watched, he collected himself enough to snap back to full military attention. "Sir! Medic Forr reporting for duty as ordered. Sir!" he barked out.

Essix pressed his lips together. _I ask for someone diplomatic and they give me another shiny jar-head. _Still, it wasn't the other man's fault. He wasn't to know that the second in command of the Kaliida Shoals Med Centre was a clone. It was an unprecedented situation and one that had resulted in quiet pride amongst the clone medical personnel and chagrin amongst the normally superior Kaminoan technicians.

"At ease. You'll find we are a bit relaxed on military protocol here. I am neither an officer nor an NCO. Essix, if you please." A look of confusion crossed Forr's face and Essix muffled a groan. "You can call me 'sir' if that would be easier for you," he conceded.

Forr looked a touch less perplexed, but not by much. Essix held out his hand and the medic handed over his personnel data chip. Essix slotted it into his datapad, and looked it over, assigning Forr a work group and billet before he removed the chip and returned it.

"I'm assigning you to the Cresh Team. Your new team is mixed – brothers and Kaminoans." Essix caught the medic's nervous swallow and fixed the greenhorn with a steely eye. "Your team lead, Topuc Ti, is one of the best Kaminoan technicians we have. Things run smoothly on this station and I want it kept that way." He paused to make sure it was all sinking in. "If you need to speak with the Administrator for any reason, speak either to your Team Lead or to me. If you do speak with her, she is to be addressed as Madame Administrator or Madame Se, do you understand?"

Forr swallowed again. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. You'll be bunking with the other clones in your Team, room bee dee dash one four eff. I assume you've memorised the station schematics?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Essix expected no less. Perhaps Forr would fit in after all. "Make your way to Stores. Once you've been issued your kit, stow it in your quarters then report to your Team Leader. Dismissed."

The newest addition to Kaliida Shoal's medical team snapped out another salute, forcing Essix to salute yet again, before he fled the room, bucket in hand.

Essix took a sip of his tea then made a face. It was lukewarm now. So much for a quiet moment—even now, work managed to find him. He stretched, loosening an uncomfortably tight knot of muscle between his shoulder blades and checked his chrono. It was time for the evening meal. He needed to go and make sure Nala Se ate something.

* * *

Nala Se had almost finished her rounds of the convalescent wards when Essix joined her. She didn't often find time away from her duties to walk through the station, to see the men that her staff were patching up, but she liked to. It put faces to the numbers that flicked across the screen of her desk. She nodded in greeting, her head swaying gracefully on its long neck. He fell in a step behind her as was his custom.

A baritone clone voice filtered out from the room ahead of them. "What's the point in patching us up to send us back to the front lines?"

"Kriffing aiwha-bait probably figure it's more efficient than having to grow a new batch."

The rooms on Kaliida Shoals were designed to funnel sound so that staff could keep an ear out for any medical emergencies. None of the patients ever seemed to realise that. Consequently, every so often she would run into a less than discrete discussion. She was amused to note that Essix started scuffing his boots against the sleek white floor as he walked. No doubt he was hoping the patients would hear the noise and change the topic of conversation.

The voices continued, oblivious to their approach. "Have you met some of the new nurses from the Republic – now there's a reason to be droid bait!"

"Mmmm… Nice to be fussed over, that's for sure."

The first voice had more to say. "They're a bit sensitive though, one of them kept apologising the whole time she was changing my dressing. Thought she was gonna burst into tears."

They were now only ten meters away from the ward, but the conversation continued. "Makes a change from those creepy long-necks. You notice they never show emotion – make the Jedi look like kids hyped up on sparklemint sticks."

One of the room's occupants must've finally heard the squeak of Essix's boots against the medical centre's slick white floor. She heard the ferocious "shut up!" from the corridor, but gave no sign of it. After all, she was here to heal the troopers, not fuss over their opinions of her or her species, which sometimes she felt was rightly deserved.

The conversation took on a muted tone of deliberate casualness as she entered the ward and began checking the charts hung up beside each bed. Each of the patients had a look of guilt and dread on their faces as she moved around the room. She knew they were afraid of her: afraid of what she could do to them, and with good reason. A single notation on their files would send them back to Kamino for reconditioning, no questions asked. She was in charge of this station after all, and Kaminoans weren't known for their benevolence or understanding; at least not in the experience of these men.

Most of the patients in this ward were healing well. She could see their charts glowing faint green where the attending physician had marked them as RTU – Return to Unit. All green except one patient who was staring silently at the ceiling. His arms, lying outside the coverlet, were heavily bandaged. His flimsy clearly marked as red —Recondition. She paused a moment at the foot of the cot.

Essix retrieved the red-lit chart and started flicking though it, narrating as he went. "Patient's burns are responding well to treatment, but the projected recovery time is four days outside the acceptable turn-around."

Nala Se watched as the patient's face tightened almost imperceptibly. She laid a hand on the patient's covered leg. "Do not be concerned. You will re-join your unit when you are healed." She made a notation on the data chart and the red light faded to amber – Pending. That ought to buy him a reprieve of at least five days, she thought. Enough time so that his burns would be 'worth' fixing.

Time — that was all most of the men needed, but that was the one commodity that was scarce in the medical centres. Tipoca City was always pushing her fore better patient turn-over. If soldiers didn't heal fast enough or had an injury that took a while to heal, they were often slated for reconditioning. It was more _efficient_. She loathed that word.

It was getting late in the station's day cycle; a droid trundled in, laden with trays of food, and began passing them out to the patients. It must be time for the evening meal. She caught a glimpse of what looked like stew and various slices of vegetables. At least it smelled all right. When she'd first started here, the meals were universally unappealing, bland, and awful-smelling even if they were perfectly nutritionally balanced for recuperating humans. Essix had tactfully brought it up, and after tasting the food for herself, Nala Se had put her foot down, and the menu had improved substantially for both staff and patients.

"Madame." Essix had come up behind her quietly.

She was now refilling water glasses. The silly server droid never remembered to check if the patients had anything to drink. She would have to have a word with someone about it. "Yes, Essix?"

"I would be remiss in my duties if I did not insist that you refresh yourself, Madame."

The patient in the corner, Warwick, had wide eyes as he took in the exchange. Nala Se amused herself by wondering what the trooper would make of the friendship she shared with her clone aide. The poor man had probably never seen anything like it.

"I still have one last stop to make," she said. "You should go on ahead."

Essix cleared his throat, but didn't reply. He also didn't leave for dinner.

She let out a gentle sigh. "Very well. I will look in quickly on our way to the dining hall."

She swept out of the room, hearing the patients in the ward perk up and start chatting again once they thought she was out of earshot. She didn't have the heart to correct them and instead listened to the troopers griping about the food and trying to trade food items. They were obviously feeling much better if working out the exchange rate between topato and neeli frond paste was their biggest concern.

Her last stop was always the same.

She peeked through the doors to see that Five-Seven-One hadn't moved. He was still lying in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while his ward-mates laughed and chatted around him. He wasn't responding to his name, only his number, and shunned the company of other clones. It was almost as though he was trying to be reconditioned, refusing to engage with life. Five-Seven-One was a mystery that stumped even Essix, who could be counted on to enlighten her on the finer points of clone troopers and humans. Physically, Five-Seven-One was ready to return to light duties, mentally… Something would have to be done.

Essix touched her arm lightly and Nala Se remembered that she was keeping him from his dinner. She cast one last look at her enigmatic patient, and left.

* * *

_Welcome to my new story! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and meeting Nala Se, Essix, and our first glimpse at Five-Seven-One. _

_Next week: Nala Se and Essix struggle to find a way to help Five-Seven-One, and Kaliida's rogue administrators get some bad news._


	2. Plots and Confessions

**Chapter Two – Plots and Confessions **

_._

_In almost every industry, some element of destructive testing is necessary. What we do here on Kamino is no different. _

_As a manufacturer, we have an obligation to our customer to ensure that we give them the best product possible. Kamino's fortune rises and falls with the success of our cloning contracts. We are the best in the galaxy at what we do because we never hand over an imperfect product. _

_Whether you want to call it destructive testing, point of failure tests, or comprehensive product checks, the end result is the same: you start with a unit and no data, and you finish with no unit, but a good data set. I should not have to remind you of this. _

_I am aware that your Generation was designed so that you might feel things more keenly than the preceding Generations. You have spent considerable time with these units but that should not affect your actions. This unit was created solely to provide answers and it is no different from any other lab animal. You have no qualms when it comes to lab rodents. This is no different: we need M-24's data, and you need to remember why we do the work that we do. _

_That is why I have assigned you to carry out the reconditioning and dissection tomorrow. You are dismissed. I will hear no more on this matter._

- Senior Scientist Ni Timor lecturing Nala Se prior to the deactivation of experimental clone unit M-24. 18,970 post-Flood.

* * *

.

Essix and Nala Se sat in the middle of no-being's land, smack in the middle of the divide. The dining hall on Kaliida Shoals was stringently split into clone and non-clone; not through any design of architecture or policy. After ten hours of doggedly getting along, most of the staff sat with their own species for meals, a respite from the forced politeness. The menu tonight had included a rare treat—nerf steak—and Essix was happily indulging in his favourite meal. Across the table, Nala Se had barely touched her food.

"I am concerned about Five-Seven-One."

Essix didn't need his datapad. He knew who Nala Se was referring to. "Madame, your shift is over. There is no need to discuss work during meal time."

She didn't reply, instead opting to push her half-eaten food around the plate with her fork. The scrape of the utensil on the plate grated, making him wince. His movement seemed to catch her attention and she gave up on the pretence of eating, putting her fork down. "I apologise, Essix. I forgot how you dislike that."

"Not a problem, Madame." Essix stole a wistful glance at his meal. He still had a quarter of his steak to go, but it would be impolite to keep eating when Nala Se was obviously troubled, not to mention unprofessional. He pushed his plate aside.

"Madame, I find myself no longer hungry," he lied. "Shall we?" He stood and collected her plate, neatly stacking it atop his.

She offered him a faint smile, but her eyes remained solemn. She stood up and followed him though, past where they stacked their used trays and then out the door.

Back in their shared office, she broached the subject again. "Five-Seven-One is proving to be most perplexing, Essix. I am not sure what should be done."

They sat down in their 'brainstorm' configuration around Essix's desk; Nala Se took the chair that Essix had in front of his desk for visitors, while Essix sat in his preferred spot on the floor. His chair was there, hovering above him in the roof space and waiting, but like the whole office, it had been designed for the much taller Kaminoans and he refused to use it afterhours, much to Nala Se's amusement. Nala Se's workspace was tucked away in an alcove to one side, but it lacked the airy feeling of the main room, which is why often the two friends could be found working at Essix's desk.

Essix brought up Five-Seven-One's file and enlarged the image so that Five-Seven-One's face rotated, shimmering blue above the desk. Nala Se liked to see the patient's face during their brainstorm sessions. The holos might look the same to an outsider, but Essix could tell the difference. So could Nala Se. It was yet another thing that endeared her to him and made sure he gave her his all and kept an eye on her.

The latest addition to the datafile was the results from Five-Seven-One's recent physical fitness tests. A small notation at the end of the report told Essix that Dale had been in charge of testing. Dale was the closest thing to a friend that Essix had amongst the clone medics, most of whom regarded him with a mixture of awe and suspicion because of his rank and friendship with a Kaminoan. According to Dale, Five-Seven-One had passed the test, only just, but Dale had added a note that the trooper was a mess psychologically speaking.

Since his admission, CT-58-2571 hadn't said a word unless ordered to. Essix was sure that the trooper had a name, but he wouldn't reveal it and responded only to his designation. Names were special, given to you by your closest buddies or earned: no one gave their name away, ever. Given how hard clones fought for and secretly yearned for a name in the sterile halls of Kamino, this reversion back to a blank slate was more than a little troubling. He was also withdrawn; Essix had noticed that none of the other patients in the ward made an effort to include him. It was though Five-Seven-One projected an invisible ray shield that kept out everyone. The man was a conundrum. Essix didn't much care for conundrums, they tended to upset Nala Se.

Neither of them would probably go for this suggestion, but still... Essix had to play devil's advocate on this, give her a chance to pull back from the slippery slope they'd both found themselves on.

"His injuries have almost healed, Madame. According to the regulations, it is past time for him to be assigned to a different company." He took a breath then pushed on, the words feeling dry and bitter in his mouth. "Perhaps we should consider red-carding him if he's not mentally prepared to deal with returning to battle."

She didn't even hesitate. "No. I do not feel comfortable doing that, Essix." His respect for her rose even higher

"Yes, Madame."

Essix breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He wouldn't have felt right sending the man to Kamino just for breaking down after all his friends had died. Still, he couldn't stay here forever. Tipoca City's rules about reconditioning could be bent, but not broken. The longer troopers stayed on in the med centre, the harder it was to hide the electronic trail. Essix was already hard pushed to mask their ratios of the reconditioned clones. He suspected it was only a matter of time before someone noticed something unusual. Essix had never been trained on how to hide data, only cope with it as an administrator, but he knew that the other med centres that were run by more conventional Kaminoans had grim statistics. One out of every five clones that went in either didn't come out or were assigned to Kamino for reconditioning.

They sat, each lost in their thoughts as the holo-image of Five-Seven-One looked down at them. Time was running out for him.

Nala Se had her eyes shut in concentration, one hand to her brow, the other idly tracing the same pattern over and over again on the desk top. Essix watched, puzzled: a letter and two numbers: M, 2, 4, repeated endlessly. He wondered what the significance of that sequence was, then dismissed his curiosity. The Administrator was entitled to secrets. He went back to racking his brain for ideas.

It was Nala Se who finally broke the silence. "It is Five-Seven-One's isolation that is most cause for concern, correct?" she asked.

Essix started to nod, then caught himself and replied aloud as per regulations. "Yes, Madame." He was starting to lapse into unprofessional behaviour, a clear sign it was past time for him to retire for the evening.

"Perhaps we should intervene then," she suggested.

"Make him interact with someone?"

"A crude suggestion, but a good one." Nala Se reached for the datapad and typed something. A second, almost identical face joined the ghostly image of Five-Seven-One. "May I suggest CT-96/3011? His commanding officer made a note that he has proven to be most, ah, outgoing. I believe he may succeed in drawing out Five-Seven-One."

Essix gestured and Nala Se slid the datapad over so he could take a closer look at the file. Essix flicked through the medical notes and training records, rapidly absorbing the information. "Goes by the name of Hops. He's in with a cracked clavicle and a transverse fracture of his right ulna. Both injuries are mostly healed," he mused. "This could just work."

Nala Se brightened, her eyes crinkling slightly in the understated Kaminoan way that, in a human, would be the equivalent of a beaming smile. "Then I shall begin the necessary paperwork."

Essix's datapad chimed, a new transmission had arrived from off-station. His frown deepened as he read the message.

"I think I will have to worry about Five-Seven-One, Madame Se. You have more pressing matters to attend to right now," he said. "Tipoca City is sending an Auditor. He will arrive tomorrow." His words dropped like a brick in heavy water, instantly dampening their elation at hatching a plan to help Five-Seven-One.

"That is too soon. We still have patients that will not meet Tipoca's standards." Her tone was as calm and distant as though she were discussing the dining hall's menu.

Another being not familiar with Kaminoans might've thought she was unfazed by the imminent inspection and the possibility of their deception being uncovered, but he noticed she had paled slightly, even as her fingers never stopped tracing out the mysterious em-two-four.

Kaminoans weren't the same as humans—Essix knew that. They had different motivators, responded differently. More than once, he had caught himself waiting for a human reaction from Nala Se which was never forthcoming, but if he didn't know better, he would've thought she was afraid. The thought in itself was enough to make _him_ afraid.

He decided to brazen it out instead. "We'll cope, Madame. Just leave it to me."

* * *

It was customary for Essix and Dale to play a game or two of dejarik in the evenings. Between denigrating each other's strategy, they indulged in debates, a rare chance for both men to shuck off the unquestioning obedience that they'd been taught and try to find their place in the 'verse. It had taken Dale a while to get comfortable with such 'non-compliant' behaviour, but eventually he'd followed Essix's lead and was just as subversive now. Essix was proud of him. Essix waited until they were both deep in the game, Dale was taking an aggressive if reckless stratagem again.

Essix came straight to the point. "I wanted to discuss a particular patient with you, Dale. CT-58-2571."

"Yes, sir. I conducted his physical yesterday at 1330 hours, the report was filed by 1600 hours"

"No sir's, Dale. This conversation is," Essix paused, trying to find the best way to phrase this, "off the books, if you catch my drift. This is just a conversation between friends."

Dale still looked wary, his posture rigid. "Since when does my friend do anything _not_ by the book?"

Essix sighed. His reputation was working against him. He changed tack. "What do you think we do here at this medical centre?"

This was an easy one. "We save lives," Dale replied promptly.

"That we do." Essix leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. "Have you heard of the phrase, 'turn-around time'?"

"I've heard of it, but I'm not familiar with its meaning."

"Kaliida Shoal is administered by Kamino and our procedures come from there. Consequently, every patient has a value index based on their experience, rank, and skill set," Essix explained.

Dale nodded to show he was following along and Essix kept going. "Every injury has been given an acceptable range of recovery times—a turn-around time, if you will. Patients who don't heal in time, or have a low value index to recovery ratio, are to be sent to Kamino for reconditioning. Shortly after their arrival, they are killed," he said bluntly.

Dale recoiled, his shock and disgust were clear to see on his face. Then his eyes narrowed. "The red cards. All those men—"

"Were killed." Essix cut in. "Yes."

It looked like Dale was struggling for words. Essix waited.

Finally, Dale leaned forward over the board. "And all of this time, during all of our conversations about life and the outside world, you didn't think tell me about this?" he hissed, his normally calm voice taut with anger.

"I couldn't."

Essix's calm seemed to defuse some of Dale's anger and he lapsed into sullenness. "So why tell me now?"

"Because I need your help. Simply put, I've been keeping clones back, refusing to red-card them. Unfortunately, my activities have attracted the interest of Tipoca City and someone will be here shortly to inspect this facility. I need help to make sure patients that shouldn't be here are kept out of sight and…" Essix trailed off, Dale had a very strange look on his face.

"You've been subverting your orders all this time, saving troopers from Kamino?" Dale whispered.

Essix squirmed to hear it put so baldy—so much for his vaunted professionalism. "Well… yes."

Next thing he knew, Dale had grabbed him in a bear hug and was pounding his back enthusiastically. He could hear Dale's rough voice in his ear saying, "I knew it! You sly sod! I knew you weren't as cold as you made out!" Then Dale released him just as abruptly as he had seized him, looking abashed. "Sorry, Essix, I forgot you aren't the most tactile person."

"Not to worry." Essix straightened his crumpled tunic, bemused, but relieved by his friend's enthusiastic reaction.

Dale froze, his colour draining away. "The Administrator! She'll find out!"

"Dale, it's okay." Essix hastened to reassure his friend. "The Administrator is in on the plan. It was actually her idea to start with."

Dale whistled, long and low. "You'd never think it to look at her."

"There's a reason for that." Essix moved a piece and watched as Dale's creature was destroyed. "I take it you've noticed that Kaminoans are very calm, never emotional?" Dale nodded and Essix continued, "If they act unusual, or out-of-spec, they get reconditioned too. Administrator Se is actually quite relaxed, almost human once you get to know her."

Dale's eyes were wide. "I think you and I are going to have a very interesting conversation during our next time game." He tipped over his keypiece, conceding the game, and settled back into the high-backed chair. "Now, there was something that you needed my help with, sir?"

"Good man. Now, here's what I want you to do…"

* * *

_A continuity note for readers familiar with my other stories, you might recognise Dale from the start of "Firefight". This current story happens **before** "Firefight". _

_Those of you unfamiliar with "Firefight", don't stress. This story is designed so it can be read just as is :)_

_Anyway, regardless of whether or not you've read "Firefight", I hope you enjoyed this week's update. Next week will see the arrival of the Auditor on Kaliida Shoals, and Nala Se and Essix's job is about to get that much harder. _


	3. Enter the Inquisitor

_Big thanks to everyone who is following and faving the story, and especially to those who have left reviews. I really appreciate the support, and hope you enjoy today's installment.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Three – Enter the Inquisitor**

_._

_Every clone knows what it is like to be expendable. How could we not, when the Kaminoans have been ruthlessly weeding out our inferior and non-compliant brothers since before we could open our eyes? _

_One of the mongrel staff members from the Republic was surprised when one of the new medics, Forr, let slip how clones are trained. Next thing you know, the mongrel was spouting off about how a culture of oppressive fear would damage our psyches, that it was unnecessarily cruel, and that we're probably all borderline basketcases that need to be kept away from decent folk. _

_I respectfully disagree. It is true that we're probably all a bit damaged having grown up in an environment like that, but I think it would be crueller to send us out to slaughter believing that death isn't a natural and everyday part of life. _

_Are you surprised I have opinions? That I dare to disagree with a non-clone? Don't be. _

_Every clone has opinions and feelings. We're just better at hiding them than mongrels__—__we have to be._

—_Unencrypted __excerpt from S-5-6's personal records._

* * *

Sek Nor stared out of the shuttle's view port at the medical centre looming in the distance. He was not pleased to be coming here. It should've been a simple enough job; fix injured clones, terminate the ones that were too damaged to make repairing them cost-effective. Instead, an anonymous tip had alerted the auditors that things might not be what they appeared on Kaliida Shoals. Knowing who he was to investigate just made the whole endeavour even more distasteful.

He stretched, trying to relieve the stiff muscles in his neck. Emotions were weakness, he reminded himself. Once, just once, a long time ago, he had let them get out of hand and he had been atoning for it ever since. It didn't matter if he was investigating Prime Minister Lama Su himself: Sek Nor would do his job.

* * *

Five-Seven-One was studying the ceiling again. Each panel had small depressions in it. For what, he had no idea. There were between five hundred and four and five hundred and twenty seven dimples per ceiling panel. He'd counted the one directly above his head at least eight times and come up with a different number each time. A proper trooper would've gotten it right the first time.

The door cycled open with a quiet hiss. Five-Seven-One didn't bother looking to see who it was. He figured that it was probably one of the medics, come to either try drawing him out again or finally slate him for reconditioning. He hoped it was the latter. He would only get brothers killed if he went out there again.

"Atten-shun!"

Five-Seven-One's body responded to the command before he could think about it, all the hours of drilling making it an instinctive movement. His head swam a bit from the sudden change in position, but luckily his left leg held out, aching only a bit. As he'd thought, his visitor was a clone medic, but he had another trooper with him. The trooper was dressed in the soft fatigues that all patients were issued, his right arm in a sling.

Five-Seven-One thought he recognised the medic who, he was fairly sure, had removed his cast and run him through a physical a few days prior. The other patient was new though. The pair crossed over to him, the medic watching him with an uncomfortably perceptive look.

"At ease. You boys will be rooming together for the duration of your stay. Five-Seven-One, Hops. Hops, Five-Seven-One."

The other patient, Hops, nodded a friendly hello towards him, which he ignored. The medic was still talking. "My name is Dale, I'll be in charge of your primary care and rehab for the remainder of your stay on Kaliida Shoals. Report to the rehab room at 1600 hours." He left, leaving the two of them to stare each other down.

"Good to meet you, brother_." _Hops cracked a grin and offered his good hand to shake.

Five-Seven-One ignored Hops's outstretched hand and flopped back down on his cot to stare at the ceiling again. "I'm not anyone's brother anymore."

The other cot creaked as the newcomer sat down. "Sure you are. You're as much Jango as I am —I'd know that scowl anywhere."

* * *

An Auditor. Nala Se tried to compose herself. She knew that Essix would have taken care of the administrative side of the inspection. She had caught him berating some of the newer medical aides over the sloppiness of their workstation earlier today. Since the ominous message had arrived the day before, she didn't think he had slept. It was typical behaviour from her diligent aide.

She straightened a pile of flimsy that adorned her desk and smoothed the fabric of her trousers, just so she had something to do with her hands. The waiting was the worst part. It was as though she was back in the lab with Ni Timor, being reprimanded over some point she'd forgotten, or for getting too close to her test subjects. She wondered what her old mentor might think of her now; subverting orders to save clones. It was purely an academic question; he had been culled years before.

Now the same colourless small-minded people were coming here. Nala Se felt a small frisson of fear uncurl deep inside her, down in the box she kept all those pesky emotions. She visualised a box, as her personality sculptor had instructed, put her fear and all her emotions inside and closed the lid. She needed to focus. Only she could do this. Essix could not help her.

She stole a glance through the open connecting door at her aide, who was working at his desk, an air of quiet efficiency radiating from him. He could be almost Kaminoan at times with his stoicism and dedication to his work. She hoped that he had managed to mask their subterfuge deep in the records of Kaliida Shoals Med Centre. In hindsight, she realised that they had done too good a job. Their turnovers and ratio of reconditioned patients were too perfect. They'd set themselves up for this fall.

The door chimed.

"Madame?" It was Essix, looking uncharacteristically worried.

"Very good, Essix. Let them in."

He nodded, pulling on what she thought privately of as his Kaminoan face—politely blank, revealing nothing of his thoughts and feelings—and went to receive their unwelcome guest.

She could hear him in the anteroom. "Welcome to the Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre, Auditor. If you could please step this way?"

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, clone. My business is with Administrator Se." That voice! Emotions rattled around wildly in Nala Se's locked box, but she kept a tight rein on them. It might not be him.

Her faint hope was crushed when a horribly familiar figure swept into her office. _Sek Nor._ She rose to greet him, her face an impassive mask as she gestured towards the seat that descended from the ceiling. "Auditor Nor, greetings. Please be seated and we can get straight to business."

* * *

His new roommate was, in a word, annoying. Five-Seven-One half wondered if the other clone's arm had been broken by his old roommates in a futile bid to shut him up. He hadn't taken any of the hints, ignored the waves of hostility that Five-Seven-One was projecting and kept yammering. It was getting harder and harder to block him out.

"Come on, there's no way that your name is Five-Seven-One. That's a load of bantha poodoo. No one makes it through their first engagement without getting named. What's your name? Sev? Fi? One? Grumpy? C'mon, throw me a bone!"

Five-Seven-One resolutely kept ignoring him. To say something—anything—might encourage Hops further. He buried his head under a pillow, but he could still hear the other man nattering away.

"Five-Seven-One is way too much of a mouthful. No way your squad let you keep that handle. You're giving me a sore mouth here, making me rattle it off each time. C'mon, what's your real name? 'Fess up. Don't make me slice your files."

Five-Seven-One sat bolt upright. "No!"

Hops rolled his eyes. "Finally! I was beginning to think I'd been moved to the morgue by accident."

"No," Five-Seven-One repeated. "Don't you _dare_ slice my file." He injected as much menace as he could into his tone. Why didn't Hops get it? He didn't want to have a name. His name belonged to a man who had friends and a place in a company where everyone looked after each other. He didn't deserve a name.

The other man wasn't budging. "I will, unless you tell me your name."

Five-Seven-One crossed his arms. "Do that and I'll break your other arm."

His threat was ignored. Hops just shrugged. "At least I'll be able to cuss you by name while you're doing it."

"Go to hell!"

"You first."

Hops produced a datapad out of nowhere and started tapping away at it. With a speed that surprised even himself, Five-Seven-One leaped out of bed and grabbed for the datapad, trying to snatch it away.

Hops held it out of reach, eyeing Five-Seven-One. "Name or I slice."

"Give that frakking thing here!"

"Name."

"Give it! Or so help me—"

"Name."

Five-Seven-One remained stonily silent, trying to ignore a twinge from his newly healed leg bones.

"Fine. Let's see… pulling up file on cee tee—"

Five-Seven-One lunged for the datapad, but Hops yanked it out of reach again.

"Name."

Frustrated beyond all measure, Five-Seven-One just glared at him, feeling his hands shake with rage. He hadn't been this angry or this frustrated, or this anything in a long time.

"Name, or…"

Hops began to move the datapad back, he was going to look in his file. Five-Seven-One couldn't stand the idea of someone else seeing his weakness, his failure.

"Jud." The word tumbled out. He felt like he was losing himself all over again, the walls he'd built up over the past days destroyed in an instant by this feckless gawp of a trooper.

Hops paused in what he was doing.

"My name is Jud," Five-Seven-One repeated dully, feeling his walls crumbling down around him.

* * *

Something wasn't right. Nala Se was wound up far tighter than Essix had ever seen her. Far more than a cursory inspection warranted. She had been ensconced in her office with the Auditor for hours now. The end of the shift had come and gone. Essix had interrupted with trays of food several times and each time they had been neck deep in reports and figures.

He stifled a yawn, feeling his eyelids droop, and reached for his mug of caf. Empty. According to the chrono he'd been awake for forty three hours now. His lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him. Luckily he had that famed Jango stamina to draw on, not to mention the sleep-deprivation training sessions that all clones on Kamino were subjected to.

Speaking of clones... Essix stretched, shifting in his chair, and pulled up Dale's latest report on Five-Seven-One's progress from the station's computer. His eyebrows went up as he read. Apparently Hops had managed to do in a few hours what the rest of the staff hadn't managed in days, found out Five-Seven-One's name—impressive. The report on the physio wasn't quite so good though. Neither Jud nor Hops had passed and Dale had noted that this was partly due to Jud's reluctance to work as a team. Essix frowned. That was not good. If Jud couldn't snap out of it, Essix might be forced to send him to Kamino after all. There was no way in _haran_ he was going to be responsible for getting more men killed because he'd marked someone unfit for duty as RTU.

A yawn threatened to escape him. Then another and another. He was caught in a storm of yawning. When he had control of himself again, Essix glanced sidelong at the closed door. It was odd to see a door there; Nala Se usually preferred to leave it open. Just then, as though in answer to his thoughts, the door slid open, revealing Nala Se and Sek Nor standing there. Both of them looked exhausted, even whiter than normal and lines etched around their mouths where there were none before. He rose.

"Essix, would you be so kind as to escort Auditor Nor to his quarters?"

"Yes, Madame."

The Auditor held up a hand to forestall his movement. "I have no need of an escort. Having been on this station before, I am quite capable of finding my way around."

Nala Se inclined her head in gracious acceptance. "Very well. Good evening, Auditor."

Their visitor swept out of the office, clutching onto a datapad and stack of flimsies. As the door hissed shut behind him, Nala Se slid into the chair opposite Essix.

"Are you alright, Madame?" he asked. He'd never seen her so drawn and white before. Even for a Kamionan she was alarmingly pale.

"I will be fine. It has just been a taxing day."

"If I cannot escort the Auditor, will you at least let me walk you to your chambers, Administrator?"

She seemed to pause for a while, mustering her strength. "I would appreciate the company, my friend."

Perhaps later he could ask her why the Auditor got her hackles up, why she was so uncomfortable around him. But just then another yawn threatened to escape him and Essix decided that maybe his questions could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading. If you've time and the inclination, I'd love to hear from you. _

_Next week: Bad dreams, and Sek Nor finds something interesting._


	4. Troubled Dreams

**Chapter Four – Troubled Dreams**

_._

_Dreams are the mind's way of letting off steam. What happens doesn't mean anything. You're not a cadet anymore. It's time you grew up and stopped being scared of the shadows. You've been under a lot of stress recently so your body will find a way of relieving that tension. I can give you something for them in the short term, but long term you'll just have to learn to cope._

—_Unidentified clone medic on Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre. _

* * *

A familiar face in the darkness. One eye was a ruin, weeping watery vitreous humour and blood, the other as dark brown as his own. _Why did you stop them? Why did you let them take me?_ they asked. Shadowy hands were grabbing at him, holding him down to on a stretcher where a tall shadow prepared a glittering hypo that scared him more than any battle simulation. Essix thrashed frantically, but couldn't get free. He was falling down, down into a black well. A thousand pairs of eyes, different faces of the same man, watched him fall all the while endlessly asking, _why didn't you save me?_

"NO!"

Essix started awake, his heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, the familiar smells and sight of the cool white surfaces penetrated his bleary senses. He was safe. He was on Kaliida Shoals Med Centre. No one was going to hurt him here.

His arm twinged, pins and needles shooting up and down when he tried to flex his fingers. He must've fallen asleep on it. He looked down, seeing a wall of text on his desk screen. He frowned, then realised what it was. He'd fallen asleep while writing his personal log. Luckily he hadn't fallen asleep on the delete command. With a casual sweep of a finger, he encrypted the file and buried it deep within the medical centre's datafiles, somewhere an Auditor wouldn't look: with the backup copies of the station's wiring schematics. On the off-chance someone _did _manage to find it, he'd used his old number, his _real_ number when writing it. There was nothing to link it to him.

The only person that really trawled through the files at Kaliida Shoals was him because that was his job. He was Chief Aide to the medical station's Chief Administrator, Nala Se, with all of the administration and dogsbody work the title implied. The upside of the role was that he had a room to call his own and blessèd privacy. Only another clone could truly appreciate what a luxury that was.

Tonight he was thankful for his isolation. No one needed know about his nightmares. He hadn't dreamt of Barlest for a long, long time now. Then tonight, a hundred versions of Barlest had invaded his dreams; young and old, in the testing chambers on Kamino when they were cadets, listening to stories from Nala Se, teasing 99 about his name, Barlest laughing, Barlest serious. Every version of his old pod-mate was staring solemnly at him, asking why. Essix had been too late to save him, reconditioned for having lost an eye in a stupid training accident because his value index didn't justify fitting a cybernetic replacement.

It had happened in the first few weeks of their posting. Essix hadn't known what to do, hadn't really known Nala Se, except as one of the technicians who'd once watched over him and his fellow cadets. He hadn't known she was a friend. By the time Essix had found out that Barlest was being assessed—red card or green—it had been too late.

Nala Se had found him in tears in the hydroponic section. When she had turned around and walked straight out he was sure that he would be the next one to be taken to Kamino, but nothing had happened. She'd saved the next clone to be red-carded, authorising treatment peremptorily without notifying anyone else and without so much as a word to him. And the next red-card, and the next. He had started helping her, fudging the paperwork to hide their tracks, then taking a more active role in their subterfuge. His breakdown had never been mentioned. But she had saved his brothers and for that she had his everlasting respect.

* * *

Further down the corridor, Nala Se was also having a sleepless night, turning restlessly in her sleep.

Ghostly faces loomed; she was trapped in one scene that repeated endlessly. Sek Nor staring down at her as she lay desolate in the hospital bed, an empty space in her arms where the medical staff had taken their 'defective' child. His angry look as he left forever without saying a word. All their promises, their naïve defiance of the rigid conventions of society—new generations were specified, not spontaneous—and their happy memories had been erased by that one hate-filled glare that haunted her dreams.

Pain, anger, loss, grief. It was too much. Nala Se's unconscious mind shrank away from the onslaught and finally tipped over into dreamless sleep.

* * *

He was back in the _Diamond Runner_, the broken bodies of his brothers strewn around him. He relaxed; it was just memory, just a dream. He was Five-Seven-One now, he'd forfeited his name. That was when it started.

Whimpers, cries, hoarse screams from throats scraped raw from the sound, men calling out for their brothers, for him. This wasn't how it had happened. His squad was calling for him, hurt and in pain. He tried to talk to them but his voice wouldn't work. He tried to reach out to them but his fingers remained motionless. The cries continued, burrowing deep inside his skull, tearing at his heart as he begged them soundlessly to stop. And they did, the sound severed as though slashed with a knife.

The bonds on his limbs and lips fell away and he rushed to Garac's side, calling for him. His squadmate was still and quiet; no longer thrashing and screaming. With trembling fingers, he reached out to touch Garac's gauntlet. "Garac? You still there, buddy?"

His gloved fingertips brushed against Garac's gauntlet and his brother crumbled away. Garac's armour was there, scratched and blood-smeared, but his brother was gone without a trace. Jud flung himself backwards, away from the horror. Garac didn't come back. He was alone. He scrabbled over the debris that littered the cabin, trying to find his brothers but at his faintest touch, their bodies vanished leaving only piles of plastoid amour that dissolved into dust when he tried to pick up the pieces. Everything he touched was ruined.

"Jud!"

His eyes flew open and he looked up into Hops's concerned face. Hops was leaning over him, pinning him to the bed with his body weight. He was Jud again, denied the surcease of being Five-Seven-One.

"What? What?" he demanded, eyes wild and wide.

Hops looked relieved and shifted away. "You were calling out and thrashing in your sleep, _ner vod_. I thought you were gonna break something."

Jud swallowed a lump in his throat, left over from unuttered screams. "It was nothing. Sorry I woke you." He rolled over, hitching the blanket up to his chin. Perhaps the other man would take the hint.

Hops didn't move. He was murmuring something under his breath. "_Ni suy'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. _Forr, Leven, Mal, Ehn."

Jud didn't recognise the language, but he knew the tone. Loss, pain, and guilt. The last bit sounded like names; there had been a Forr in Jud's platoon. Hops clasped Jud's shoulder through the thin blanket and got up, the bed squab shifting under Jud as Hops's weight vanished. There was a faint rustling as Hops climbed back into his cot.

Jud rolled over to face in Hops's direction. "What was that all about?"

For a long time, Jud wasn't sure if Hops was going to reply, then the other man sighed. "Remembrance for the dead. A commando taught it to me. Helps keep them close." He paused. "I can teach you if you'd like."

Jud didn't reply and there was a rustling and an exasperated sigh. Hops had rolled over. Jud heard his breathing start to slow as the trooper fell back into sleep.

Jud followed suit, wrapping himself in the scratchy blanket. He mouthed the unfamiliar syllables to himself. "_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. _Garac, Olar, Sol, Muzz, Sev, Jez, T…."

* * *

In the VIP suite, Sek Nor was not sleeping either. Instead he was hard at work trolling through the central computer files. Something was going on here and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

It had been both harder and easier than he had anticipated to sit and speak calmly with Nala Se. Easier because she was a stranger, not his fiery and subversive pair-bond of old. It seemed they had both changed, both fallen in line. The fact that they were still alive proved that they had conformed. Harder, because the mere sight of her brought up painful memories that he had shucked off long ago as part of his old non-conformist life.

He had already remotely interviewed most of the Kaminoan technicians that served on Kaliida Shoals. They had been most open and helpful in supporting his search. They submitted to Nala Se and respected her judgement, but the general feeling amongst the staff seemed to be that she was 'not one of them'. Oh, he encountered a few technicians that seemed to resent an auditor poking his nose into what they felt was their business, but thankfully, like all good citizens, they recognised that he was doing his job even as they were doing theirs.

Slowly he painstakingly teased out the details, collating little traces from different files, tracking numbers and patients as they were shuffled through different departments. Evidence mounted little by little. Someone on this station was holding back defective clones, sending them back into circulation without informing Tipoca City. Only one person on this station could achieve this level of deception – Nala Se. Sek Nor was sure of it. It seemed his old pair-bond was not as compliant and conformist as her demeanour had led him to believe. But try as he might, Sek Nor was unable to trace the deception back to her, to lay the blame squarely at her feet. Instead, the data trail led him to the Administrator's Aide, that uppity clone unit. It was most aggravating.

Sek Nor sank deeper into the computer's data bank, surely the clone would have made a mistake, slipped up somewhere. This mess was Nala Se's fault and Sek Nor fully intended to make sure that the finger was pointed squarely at her. At the very least, she was responsible for her Aide. His faults were hers, and a deception on this scale, for this long, was at the very least a stern indicator of incompetence. It was past time that Nala Se was decommissioned and Sek Nor intended to bring that about.

He inserted a data strip and activated his custom seeker programs that were designed to notice inconsistencies and bring them to his attention. They'd never failed him before. All he needed to do now was give them some time to work. He leaned back in his chair, intending to close his eyes for just a few minutes.

..

..

The strident alarm of the programs jolted him from slumber. He blinked, trying to clear his bleariness and stared blearily at the screen. They'd found something: an encrypted file hidden deep within the station's central memory banks.

Sek Nor was not an encryptions specialist. He didn't know what this file was, but he was sure of one thing: there should be no secrets on this station. Fortunately, Tipoca City's Military Complex had an abundance of them. He added a copy of the file to his report about the Aide's wrongdoing and Nala Se's negligence to his superior, with a request for an immediate decryption.

Satisfied he had accomplished his task and in a most efficient fashion Sek Nor closed down his data terminal and lay back on his bed, dreaming of the cool air of Kamino, the raging storms, and the admiration of his co-workers.

When he awoke, the light on the console in his room was flashing gently; a message was waiting for him. Sek Nor opened the message to find to his pleasure that the crypto-analyst's on Kamino had done their thing. There was also a note from his superior:

"_You are to be commended for your diligence in uncovering this deception, Sek Nor. Your efforts are appreciated. You are hereby authorised to relieve the Aide from its duties and escort it to Tipoca City for processing. The experimental clone unit S-5-6 is also of interest; detain and bring the unit with you, preferably alive." _

Sek Nor skimmed through the decrypted file, his eyes widening as he read the transmission. It turned out that his encrypted file was a personal log of one of the staff, a clone, and it displayed a frightening amount of non-conformity, defects, and independent thought. The crypto-analysts had already read the file, noting that the clone whose file it was had a number not recognised by the Quality Control Registry. According to the files, S-5-6 was an experimental clone unit from a very old study that had been overlooked and buried in the Science Archives. The unit was never accounted for, it had not been assigned for further study or decommissioned. It had just vanished. Tipoca's Research and Development team were most eager to have the experimental unit returned to them for further study.

Sek Nor called up the personnel files for all clone staff working on the station. No S-5-6. It seemed that this station was doing more than just accumulating defective product and now he had proof. He printed out a personnel requisition flimsy, ready to take to Nala Se. He would not be leaving this station alone.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed this week's update :) Next week: Sek Nor confronts Nala Se and Essix._


	5. Cut Off

**Chapter Five – Cut Off**

_._

_It's strange being a medic. _

_You see so many of your brothers dead, dying, maimed and injured. Stay at your post long enough and almost every injury a human can suffer in war, visible and invisible, will cross your path. It takes the uncertainty out of dying, that's for sure. No need to imagine what will happen to you if you step on a mine, asphyxiate, or take a blaster bolt to the skull—you've already seen it all, and worse. So many men, so many injuries, and every one of them with your face, screaming out their pain with your voice. Worse still are the ones that look at you, not a scratch on them, but their face is just a mask and all you can see in their eyes is emptiness. It would break anyone. _

_Six. _

_That's how many of my colleagues I've seen stare at me, black holes where their eyes should be, just before they end it all. Those six are why we medics get so much extra conditioning now, why we no longer have access to blasters. We're all of us dying a bit inside with each man we lose. _

_Me, I couldn't do it. I don't think I could stand to slot myself, knowing that there were more brothers out there, more versions of me that would be in pain because I wasn't there for them. I don't know if that's me talking or just the conditioning. It's so hard to tell some days. So hard to keep going. Yet in the end, that's all I can do—save the next man. And every once in a while, a patient comes along that makes it all worthwhile and you realise: this is why. This is why I suffer._

_I had that today. One of my hollow men came back from the brink. Something must've happened in the night, because today when I looked at him he stared straight back at me. The void was gone. He was back._

—_Private log entry from Clone Medic CT-12-090, a.k.a. 'Dale'._

* * *

Nala Se was in the bacta room, right where Essix expected to find her. The bacta tanks surrounded them, a forest of blue columns with men in various stages of healing, bobbing around in the thick liquid. Droids tottered around checking the patients' vital statistics and progress. Kaminoan technicians stalked around the place double-checking the droids' assessment. For all that the patients were silent, the room was far from quiet; muted beeps of electronic equipment, gurgling of bacta fluid as it circulated inside the tanks and the gentle clicking of ventilation equipment permeated the room. The bacta room was almost empty today, just a handful of tanks were in use.

Essix had checked his datapad before coming onto shift, but he checked it again—just in case he'd forgotten something. All patients were responding well to treatment. Every man currently in a bacta tank was due to be pulled out in the next two days

Nala Se spoke without turning to look at him, her gaze fixed on the unconscious man in the tank in front of her who was slumped in the suspension harness. "Does it disturb you to have so many injured men that all share your face?"

Essix paused. This was a new train of thought for her. She'd never before asked him about his upbringing, his sense of self or community – especially not in relation to the patients they treated. "No," he said. "They might look like me, but they aren't me. Scars, facial expressions, mannerisms, and even smell; they're different. They aren't me."

"So what you are saying is that you are unique then?"

This felt awfully like a trap. He was hesitant, picking his words carefully so that he would not incriminate himself or muddy his meaning. "Genetically—definitely not; skill-wise—probably not; experiences—perhaps. But something else tells me that I am not like any of the other men who share my face. They might have parts of me, an expression or a similar memory, but only I have all of it."

"So then, you are one of a kind?"

Essix's eye muscle twitched involuntarily. He was backed into a philosophical corner. He was used to this type of talk with Dale, not Madame Se. He started fidgeting with the ridges on his datapad's edges. "Based on your argument, Madame Administrator, yes."

"I am glad." Her voice was soft, almost lost over the gurgle of the bacta as the man inside was automatically rotated in his harness by the tank's machinery.

He fought the urge to stare at her.

"I enjoy your company, Essix. I believe it would cheapen our connection if you could be replaced like a faulty flow valve."

A lump came to his throat. This was almost emotional. Too emotional with the Auditor still on the station. Warning bells started to clamour in his mind. "Madame…"

Movement through the forest of blue cylinders caught Essix's eye. It was the Auditor, Sek Nor, two armoured clones trotting obediently behind the crested Kaminoan like an honour guard. Essix quickly checked his schedule for the day, but no, Nala Se's meeting with the Auditor wasn't due for another two hours. The scrawny Kaminoan came to a halt in front of them, clutching a piece of flimsy in his hands as if it was the last nerf steak in the cafeteria or his newborn child.

Essix caught the eye of one of the escorts, Vogel, and flashed a quick hand signal—a question. The guard's fingers flickered. No, he didn't know what was going on either.

Sek Nor swivelled suddenly and jabbed a finger at Essix's chest. "Guards, detain this unit and escort it to the holding cells in preparation for reconditioning."

Amoki and Vogel paused. Essix was stunned. Holding cells? Reconditioning?

Nala Se tried to interpose her body between them, moving in closer to Sek Nor so that he was forced to step away from Essix.

Amoki hesitated, turning to address the Auditor. "This is a medical centre, sir. We do not have holding cells."

"Well then confine it to quarters." Sek Nor's voice dripped with hostility—a rare display of emotion for a Kaminoan.

Amoki and Vogel took up position either side of Essix. Vogel tried to take his arm to lead him away, but Essix wrenched away from them, staring boldly up into Sek Nor's face. Nala Se held up her hand and he subsided.

"Why is my Aide being detained, Auditor?" she demanded.

"Gross dereliction of duty." The other Kaminoan sounded bored. With a flourish, he handed his piece of flimsy over to Nala Se, who took it.

Nala Se shoulders drooped a fraction as she read. "This is unacceptable."

Sek Nor straightened. "No. What is happening on this station is unacceptable."

They were lost in a world of their own, each staring the other down. Essix coughed slightly, hoping to get their attention.

"Sir, might I view the particulars of the charges?" Essix asked Sek Nor.

The male Kaminoan ignored him, still focused on Nala Se. "You cannot tell me you had no knowledge of this unit's doings." Nala Se remained silent and after a pregnant pause Sek Nor continued, somehow managing to make his even voice sound as pompous as any human. "My orders also state that I am to bring back unit S-5-6 with me to Tipoca City. You are to bring it to me immediately."

Essix's blood ran cold. His secret was out, even if the Auditor didn't seem to know that Essix and S-5-6 were one and the same. Dimly he felt Vogel place a restraining hand on his shoulder, even as Amoki snapped a set of binders around his wrists, the cold metal pressing uncomfortably into his wrist bones.

"Administrator, where is S-5-6?"

Essix looked up, meeting Nala Se's eyes. She had her Kaminoan mask on again, face blank and eyes carefully normal.

"I do not know," Nala Se said in her melodic voice.

"I do not believe your incompetence extends that far, Administrator Se," Sek Nor said, "nor do I believe that such an experimental unit would have been authorised for duties on this station. You are wilfully concealing it from me, just like the aberrant you are. I will see that you are processed along with your Aide if it is the last thing that I do."

In that instant, Essix knew there were things worse than death. Worse than being slowly picked apart by a team of cold and indifferent scientists whilst you screamed for mercy. He'd always thought that blood freezing in your veins was just a saying, apparently not.

He took a deep breath. "I am the one you want."

Both Kaminoans' heads snapped around on their long necks to stare at him. Surprise and triumph gleamed in the depths of Sek Nor's eyes, resignation and despair in Nala Se's.

"I am Experimental Clone Unit Ess Dash Five Dash Six," he stated, proud that his voice did not quaver, did not betray his fear to the Auditor. "The Administrator had no knowledge of my subterfuge or my violation of orders. I, solely, am to blame."

Despite his apprehension, Essix found it mildly interesting that even after his revelation, Sek Nor still managed to effectively shut him out of the conversation. The Auditor rounded on Madame Se instead. "Is this true?"

Nala Se glanced at Essix, who willed her to go along with him. "It is true," she said.

"Very good." The other Kaminoan didn't sound convinced. "Guards, remove that unit."

"Yes, sir!"

Amoki and Vogel took hold of Essix's upper arms and led him away.

* * *

Nala Se watched as Essix and his guard escort vanished from sight amongst the blue bacta tanks.

"The researchers on Tipoca will be very interested in that unit. None of the other experimental clone units have survived this long," Sek Nor remarked blandly, talking at her as though nothing had happened, as though he had not just sentenced a man to death.

"I don't know what you have been doing, Administrator. This facility exists to return units to the frontlines as quickly and efficiently as possible. Instead, I find that you have defective units running amok, clone units—experimental clone units at that—running the station, sowing seeds of dissent and subversion amongst the ranks."

"We appear to have a different definition of defective, Auditor," she replied. "There is no clone on this station that is not capable of performing his duties to the best of his abilities. Essix is a capable and competent administrator. Far more so than the one that Tipoca City tried to foist off on me. Clones that you would have me believe are defective are in fact as good as, if not better than their less injured compatriots."

"You have fallen far from your position as Scientist, Nala Se." She sucked in a shocked breath at the deliberate omission of her title. Her reaction was not lost on him and he clicked disapprovingly at her.

If he could dispense with the courtesies, so could she. "You are not so compliant as you make out, Sek Nor. I detect a note of triumph in your voice. An emotion that is most unseemly."

He ignored her barbed comment. "My superiors will take a dim view of your lax handling of the situation, Administrator. Doubtless this entire station will have to be entirely purged of clone units. Once they see my report, you will be returned to Kamino for processing as should've been done a long time ago."

Purged. Nala Se maintained her expressionless façade, but inside she was reeling. No doubt that meant medical personnel as well as patients. Eleven thousand, six hundred and thirty-four lives. That's how many clones were currently on-board her station.

"The clone personnel on this station, patients and medics, are all fully compliant," she said as calmly as she was able.

He folded his arms. "And where is your proof to support your hypothesis?"

"You require proof?"

He sniffed. "Naturally. You do remember what that is? Or have you fallen so far from your position as a Scientist?"

She ignored the barbed comment and disdainful look. "Very well, I propose an experiment."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Test one of these so-called 'defective' clones. If he perform to expected standards, you leave this station and submit a satisfactory report to your superiors. If he is are not up to standard, then I will accept full responsibility for the lapse in quality standards and return with you to Kamino."

"You seem to be under the mistaken impression, Administrator, that you have a choice in the matter," he said. "You have spent far too long socialising only with defective and experimental units; this is not a bargain that you can haggle over like some Trade Federation lackey. You and your aide will both be decommissioned. The only question remaining is how much of the stock you have contaminated."

Nala Se's heart fluttered in her middle. "Do I have your word that if the subjects pass the test, none of the patients currently aboard will be reconditioned?"

"What do you take me for, a human?" He had dispensed with his normal emotional control and derision radiated off him. She held his gaze and finally he acquiesced. "Very well. I will take it under advisement _if_ your precious defective unit passes—I highly doubt it."

* * *

The subsequent meeting between himself and the fallen Administrator had been decidedly unpleasant. Nala Se had apparently not yet replaced her former Aide—_a display of sentiment on her part?_. Whatever the reason, it meant there was a lack of refreshments to sustain them during the long hours where Sek Nor was grilling Nala Se about the medical centre's practises. The only thing that stood out for him was the sheer amount of work that the clone had handled. Sek Nor had to grudgingly concede that the unit was competent, despite its subversive nature.

Nala Se had been bland and helpful yet somehow managed to stonewall him at every turn. Sek Nor couldn't recall her actively hindering him, but he knew no more than he'd known at the start of the meeting. It was time to change tack.

Sek Nor headed for the room where S-5-6 was being confined. Normally, Sek Nor would not have to worry about confining units. On Kamino, all units due to be reconditioned waited obediently in holding areas, as ordered, until it was time for them to be processed. No guards were necessary. This unit though… if the personal log was any indication, it was dangerously independent and did not seem to have undergone the extensive conditioning that successive units had been subjected to. Sek Nor could not be sure it would not simply walk out of its room.

The two units flanking the door came to attention as he neared. A dull red light above the door's control panel told him that the units had sealed the door from the outside. There was no way the experimental unit could leave of its own volition. He spoke without looking at the clones. "Open it."

"Yes, sir."

The door slid open and he went in. The unit was busy pacing to and fro in front of its sleeping platform and didn't bother to stop as Sek Nor entered the room. He had to supress a niggle of irritation at yet another disturbing display of non-compliance.

"Ess Five Six, stand at attention when I address you."

The unit paused, looking at him full in the face before it slowly and deliberately shifted into the position of attention. Its reluctance to obey him was most troublesome.

"What are you here for, Auditor?"

The unit was not supposed to talk when at attention, but Sek Nor decided to answer it anyway. "I am here to debrief you on your doings on this medical centre. You will tell me everything about the subversion of your orders and who else is involved."

It shook its head slowly. "No, Auditor, I will not."

Outrage flared in Sek Nor's chest before he managed to tamp it down again. This station was having a bad effect on him, stripping away years of careful control. It was all Nala Se's fault. He needed to get out of here, to get back to Kamino's churning seas, the rainbow surf spray and the steely skies. This unit was so defective and twisted that it no longer responded to orders. Sek Nor dredged up what little of human psychology he remembered Nala Se discussing so many years ago when she was a junior scientist and he was a promising quality assurance technician.

"Your intransience will not aide your fellow units, S-5-6." Perhaps he could appeal to the unit's rampaging emotions instead. He was gratified to see it wavered, hesitating before it resumed its blank stare at the wall behind him.

"Whether you disclose your information now or later, the result will be the same. However, if you do not cooperate I may be forced to make some, ah, assumptions about the extent of your supervisor's involvement."

That got the unit's attention and it looked squarely at him with its flat brown eyes. "Administrator Se had nothing to do with my dereliction of duty, Auditor."

Sek Nor bent his head closer to the unit, willing it to disclose its secrets. "Prove it."

It matched him stare for stare. "I cannot."

Sek Nor straightened, suddenly tired of this game and this wretched station. He'd tried to be reasonable and look where it got him. "Then she too will return to Kamino for processing. Either she actively aided you and disobeyed direct orders, or she was ignorant of your actions which indicates a disturbing lack of supervision of this facility's day to day operation."

The unit didn't flinch, nor did it look away. Sek Nor stalked out of the room, gratified to see at least the units on guard were compliant—still in their attentive postures from before. Obviously the breakdown of discipline had not yet affected them, but it was only a matter of time. This station needed to be purged and as soon as Nala Se's precious experiment had finished, he intended to see it done.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed today's update. If you've time and the inclination, I'd love to hear what you thought of it :) _

_Next week: Essix gets an unexpected visitor._


	6. Against the Wall

**Chapter Six – Against the Wall**

_._

_There are so many euphemisms in war, most of them sinister. Don't believe me? Try watching the HNN sometime. Traffic interdiction operations. Collateral damage. Acceptable losses. Strategic victories. Negative patient outcomes. Reconditioning. It's a whole other form of Basic and not one I care to become familiar with._

_Bureaucrats think that if they use one of their softly softly phrases, you won't mind when they strap you down and give you that last lethal hypo. That'll be me in a few days._

_I am Essix. Experimental Clone Unit S-5-6, Chief Aide of Kaliida Shoals Medical Centre, and let me tell you—I mind!_

_It won't make a difference though—it never does. As a matter of fa_

—_Final entry from S-5-6's personal records._

* * *

.

Confined to his quarters, Essix was going slowly mad from boredom and dread.

He'd tried working out in a bid to use up his nervous energy, but all he'd succeeded in doing was making himself sweaty and giving himself sore muscles. Even his desk had deactivated partway through an entry in his personal records. He had no link to the outside world, no idea what was going on. He was locked in a room with absolutely nothing to do, but sit and wait to be shuttled down to Tipoca City, a nerf to the slaughter. He punched a wall in frustration. No mark—he obviously hadn't punched hard enough. His hand protested a second later and he winced, sucking on a skinned knuckle in a bid to alleviate the sting.

A small part of him, a very small part, was relieved. No more hiding behind a fake number, no more reminding himself to respond to CT-8023, no constant niggling fear that he would one day be found out and dragged back to Tipoca City. That ship had well and truly jumped to hyperspace. The initial terror of discovery had morphed into anger and frustration.

Yes, he'd disobeyed orders, following the spirit rather than the letter of the med centre's directive, but the GAR was probably better off for it—not that Kamino seemed to agree. He wondered what they'd think of the statistics, after all, the stats that they'd seen up until now had been 'creatively applied figures' as Nala Se had put it. They'd had to have been, otherwise an Auditor would've shown up a long time ago.

The worst bit of it wasn't knowing he was going back to Kamino. Back to a short existence filled with poking, prodding and painfully intrusive tissue samples, but knowing that Madame Se was also going to be processed as well, his efforts to save her had been in vain. Surely if he made a case for how efficient she was, even the Kaminoans would listen? After all, Sek Nor was hardly your typical Kaminoan. Essix didn't know why but the Auditor always gave him the impression of someone that kept a very tight rein on his emotions and reactions, afraid to slip up. He knew that look; he saw it every day with Madame Se. They had to listen, they just had to!

But what if they didn't? He clenched his fists unthinkingly and winced as bruised muscles complained. Essix paced, a caged nexu, willing his brain into action. He had to have a Plan B. He always had a Plan B. Perhaps if Kamino wouldn't listen, the Republic would.

Essix had met more than one Republic representative during his time at Kaliida Shoals: Admiral Yularen and Jedi High General Kenobi were the most notable personages. Those two had been there during the commissioning ceremony of Kaliida Shoals. Both men had impressed him with their attention to detail and the way they treated all personnel—clone and non-clone—equally. They'd listened to his opinions and advice, rather than ignoring him as some civilians had done. In fact, they'd been here not that long ago to collect the bulk of the men from the 501st and 212th that had been injured in the recent fighting on Christophsis and were ready to return to service. General Kenobi in particular had been most effusive in his thanks for the work that Nala Se and her team had done.

Essix had been intrigued to see how friendly General Kenobi had been, not only to the Clone Marshall Commander that had been assigned to him, but also to the men of the 501st and 212th that were re-joining the unit. Perhaps he would help? Essix could give a copy of the station's true statistics to Nala Se to take to Kamino. It might just help her to argue her case. If he could just get another copy to someone sympathetic in the Republic, Kenobi or Yularen, Essix was sure that the Jedi would at least listen. Essix wasn't quite sure what General Kenobi could do, but it gave him something to do other than try and make holes in the walls or wear out the floor.

He had just finished copying the precious data, complete with embedded security tags so that there would be no doubt of efficiency, when he heard voices outside his quarters. It must be time for him to go. _No, I'm not ready!_ He was still clutching the two precious datachips when the door to his quarters hissed open. Essix squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

_I guess it's time then. I only wish…_

* * *

When Dale entered Essix's quarters-turned-prison, he thought that the other man was going to pass out. Essix was pale, head bowed, and Dale noticed lines around Essix's eyes and mouth that he was sure weren't there before today.

"Essix."

Essix's head flew up and he sagged when he recognised Dale.

"Dale?" He sounded like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"In the flesh."

"What are you doing here?"

"Rumours. Well, more like official explanations not adding up," Dale confessed. Essix's shock seemed to have eased and now he looked… amused. Dale got defensive. "Hey, you are the one always telling me to question things and saying I needed to look at the bigger picture."

Essix chuckled, but Dale thought it sounded forced, harsh. "That I did." He waved towards the end of the bed and Dale took a seat, glad he didn't have to shift from foot to foot anymore. "That I did," Essix repeated as he sat in his desk chair. "So what's the official story?" Essix asked.

"Well _officially_ you're being transferred, sent to Kamino for extra training prior to reassignment." Dale rolled his eyes to show what he thought of that.

This time Essix's chuckle was less forced. "I'm impressed. They're getting creative—I'd expect a line like that from a human, not a Kaminoan."

His instincts had proven right. Dale grinned. "So what's the, ah, un-official story then?"

"Which one?"

"There's more than one?"

Essix sighed, making Dale's instincts twitch. "Both have the same ending so I suppose it doesn't really matter."

"So…?"

"The Auditor noticed that our patients have been staying here longer than their charts would otherwise indicate. I'm being done for dereliction of duty."

Dale felt ill. Had he failed somewhere? Forgotten something vital? Did Essix blame him? "Essix, I'm sorry. I did everything you said, I kept Jud away from him. I—"

Essix leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "It wasn't you. He must've gone snooping on his own time—there's nothing you could've done. That Kaminoan is unfortunately very thorough in his job. In fact…" He paused to eye Dale. "How did you get in here? I thought there were guards on the door?"

"There are." Dale's grin was more than a bit smug. "I got a bit creative with the truth and claimed that we had a meeting about important paperwork that needed to be signed off by you and only you. Amoki and Vogel were once patients; they know you're on their side."

Essix smiled faintly. "Very well done."

"Enough of that. Is there anything I can do? Anything I can help with for your court-martial?" Dale asked, anxious to get this farce of a court-martial over so that things could go back to normal.

Something flickered over Essix's face and was gone before Dale could identify it, leaving sad resignation in its place. He held up a datachip that had been sitting on the desk. "Get this to Madame Se for me."

Dale took the tiny chip from Essix, turning it over in his fingers. "What is it?"

"The proper statistics on the med centre's reconditioning and casualty figures—data which isn't on the central computer. Madame Se will need it for her defence."

Ah. There was a plan. Dale felt reassured. He nodded towards the desk where a second datachip was sitting, a black square of darkness in the white room. "That's yours, I take it?"

"No. That one is for Jedi High General Kenobi. I just haven't figured out how to get it to him."

"I can take care of that," Dale volunteered. "I have a friend aboard the _Resolute_."

Essix handed over the other datachip and Dale tucked it away in a belt pouch.

"You've got a copy for your defence?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Won't be necessary?" Dale echoed, sure he wasn't hearing things right. "Essix, I know you're brilliant at your job, but the panel at your court-martial might take a bit more convincing. You're going to need that data."

"I don't plan to contest the charges."

"What!" Dale spluttered. "What?"

Essix didn't reply. He just sat there calmly, giving away none of his feelings.

"Do you know what happens to you for dereliction of duty?" Dale demanded. "Do you know what they could do to you?"

Essix's face was as impenetrable as stone, but Dale thought he saw a flicker of fear in Essix's eyes and the tightening of his jaw. "Better than most. I won't be walking away from this, Dale. The Auditor will be returning to Kamino and I…, I will be going with him. The Administrator _needs_ that data."

"You need it more!"

Essix shook his head and Dale was swamped by a desire to punch the other man. To do something, anything, to break through that passive mask. All that talk of defiance and thinking outside the box and now Essix was going to throw away his life for a Kaminoan.

"She's one of them, Essix! They're hardly going to recondition _her._"

"Yes… they are."

"Oh." Suddenly it all made sense. For reasons that Dale had never really grasped, Essix and the Administrator were _friends_; even socialising outside their shifts. The Administrator had but to hint she needed him and Essix was there, patient and obedient. Dale didn't like it—Kaminoans and clones shouldn't be friendly, but he'd tried to ignore it and Essix had never volunteered information. It was one of the few subjects that they avoided at the dejarik table. If the Administrator was in trouble, Essix would not rest until she was safe.

"Fine," Dale said, voice taut.

Essix smiled—really smiled—for the first time. "Thanks, Dale."

Dale ignored his friend's good cheer. "Aren't you going to lift a finger to help yourself? What happened to the man who didn't like his options when Kamino told him to kill his brothers, so he made a third? Where is he now, huh?"

Essix faltered and then he was gone, pulling on that bland face he always wore when dealing with Kaminoan staff members. Dale recoiled as though he'd been slapped. He wasn't trusted. His hurt must've shown on his face because Essix's veneer of calm cracked, held for a moment, and then dissolved. He rested his face in his hands, hunched over in his chair. "They know, Dale," he whispered in a small voice. "They found out and I've nowhere to run."

For the first time, Dale realised just how scared his friend was behind the blank mask. However all these cryptic remarks were starting to irritate him no end. He felt like grabbing Essix and shaking the answers out of him. "Know what?"

"ECU S-5-6."

"What?"

"That's my number."

"Your what?" In his confusion, Dale found himself again parroting back Essix's words. "Aren't you CT—"

"No."

In his time at the med centre, Dale had seen CT's and CC's by the bucket load and even a few RC's and ARC's, but ECU's? S's? "So what's it stand for then?" he asked, trying to buy himself time so he could process what Essix had just said.

"Experimental Clone Unit, study S5, unit 6."

_Experimental?_ "What, like the RC's?"

"No. One of my podmates who sliced the database found that my study, S, aimed to investigate how different learning environments affected gene expression and methylation. My pod had a, um, unconventional upbringing. You had droid caregivers and the occasional Kaminoan when you were a cadet, right?" Dale nodded and Essix continued: "My pod didn't: all Kaminoan. By the time the RC's started training, we'd already been panned. Too individual and bonded too much with the technicians. Totally unsuitable for combat." Essix looked away. "All of my podmates have either been reconditioned or used for other experiments. There's only one left and well, he's never been the same since Ko Sai got her paws on him. The researchers on Tipoca are probably going to be very keen to meet me." Essix was grim.

Dale was struggling to take it all in. Alternative learning? Experimental studies? Whole pods of clones he'd never even heard of! Part of him wanted to run away, pretend he'd never heard anything and that he'd never been friends with an experimental unit. But that was just a hold-over from living in Tipoca's Military Complex, where KE-8 Enforcers were always hovering overhead looking for defective clones and where friends of defectives were considered tainted by association. It didn't make for a very trusting environment. He needed to say something, let Essix know he was still his friend and he was going to stand by him. Dale opened his mouth, but there was a rap at the door.

The door panel slid open and Vogel was standing there. "Come on, Medic. Time's up."

"We're not done yet," Dale protested.

Vogel didn't budge. "Yes, you are. You shouldn't even be in here, Medic. We gave you some time, but it's our necks if you get caught. Now out."

"Go on, Dale," Essix said.

"But, sir!"

"Don't," Essix warned. He looked past Dale to Vogel. "Trooper, Medic Dale is finished here. Please remove him from my quarters."

"Yes, sir." Vogel saluted.

Dale found himself promptly ejected from Essix's room, staring at the locked door. A hand on his shoulder made him start, but he realised it was just Vogel who was looking at him.

"I'm sorry about Chief Aide Essix, Medic," Vogel said in his gruff voice. "But you really need to get out of here before the Auditor decides you need to be put in a holding cell too."

"Thanks for the advice." Dale turned and walked away through the cold and sterile corridors of Kaliida Shoals.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed today's chapter. _


	7. The Simulator

_Massive thanks to Jade Max for all her help and for being so patient with me and the story. Couldn't have done it without you :)_

* * *

**Chapter Seven - The Simulator**

.

"_I'm sorry to do this to you out of the blue, but I'm afraid I need to call in that favour, Lieutenant."_

"_I'm listening."_

"_I'm sending you a data transmission. Please see that it gets to the Admiral."_

"_Can I ask what this is all about?"_

"_You can ask, sir, but I don't think I could explain. Not in the time available."_

"_Copy that. I'll get it done."_

"_Thank you, sir."_

"_And Dale?"_

"_Yes sir?"_

"_Consider us even."_

—_Unauthorised transmission between the _Resolute _and Kaliida Shoals Med Centre._

* * *

.

Essix's situation had gone from bad to worse.

The transfer had come swiftly and without warning. He had a moment to himself after Dale had snuck in to see him, and then Vogel and Amoki had opened the door and marched him out to the docking bay. He'd been bundled aboard and the ship had jumped away within minutes. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Madame Se. Did she even know he was gone? They'd been in hyper for hours now. Some small part of him wished that she knew. Hoped that she was doing something to get him back, but deep down he knew that even if Dale managed to pull off a miracle and get the data out, for him the game was up. He was going to Kamino.

Essix shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. It was a forty-hour trip to Kamino from Kaliida Shoals, even with the pilots using the Nelvaan-Nal Hutta hyperspace lane. It was a long time to be sitting still. Not that he was exactly hanging out to get to their destination. The ship was, unusually, almost empty. Essix had half-expected that he would find some of the red-carded clones on-board, but it seemed it was just him, the pilots, and the two reluctant guards sitting across from him.

A muscle in his back cramped suddenly and Essix winced, his gut tensing in sympathy. He tried to rub his back to loosen up the tension, but the restraint on his wrist yanked taut, preventing him from reaching the errant muscle. Essix looked down at the chunky band on his wrist, then up at Vogel and Amoki.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked, rattling the cuff to illustrate his point and trying not to let annoyance creep into his tone. His self-control didn't do him much good as the other clones ignored him and remained immobile, helmets staring blankly at him.

Essix sighed and stared out of the viewport at the streaks of blue that were streaming past. Only twenty one hours to go. It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Nala Se was far from calm as the turbolift with her and Sek Nor sped towards Kaliida Shoal's simulation room.

She had tried to visit Essix first thing this morning, but when she got there she had found the room deserted. Nothing of Essix remained. The flimsi-books that she'd bought for him were gone, as was the small box of trinkets he'd kept on his desk. Even the bedding on the sleeping platform had been removed. The air was scented with disinfectant and cleaning products and a small maintenance droid bustled around erasing Essix's presence. It was as though he'd never been there. She'd tried to find out what had happened to him, but the droid had no answer for her.

Sek Nor, the only person who could be responsible for Essix's disappearance, hadn't answered any of her queries except to blandly remark that she seemed to have fallen back into the bad habit of getting attached to defective units.

Her breathing hitched. Control. She needed control. Nala Se closed her eyes, imagining herself as a white pebble, smooth and impervious to everything, a maelstrom of colourful emotions slipping around her and then falling away, leaving the pebble untouched and pristine as ever. She would not let Sek Nor win.

The source of her agitation seemed quite cheerful as he waited beside her, filling the silence with his talk. "Taun We will be arriving in less than twelve hours. No doubt she wishes to see the extent of your failure for herself."

Nala Se's eyes flew open, but she managed to conceal her shock. The administrator for the entire Fett-clone project, aide to the Prime Minister Lama Su himself, was coming here? "As I said before, there is no failure. Perhaps she will not be so blind to reason as you," she managed to say.

He didn't even glance at her, still watching the blur of movement through the slim frosted glass panels of the lift as floors flashed past them. "Trying to provoke me will not work, _Administrator_," he said, sneering a little as he said her title.

The turbolift chimed softly; they were slowing. The simulation room was a few meters down the corridor. "Nothing has been proven," Nala Se reminded him. "Nor will it be."

The turbolift door cycled open. Nala Se saw a clone medic, clad in white and clutching two datapads, waiting for them in the corridor beyond. Sek Nor ignored her and strode out of the lift towards the clone, who stiffened to attention.

"Clone Medic Dale, reporting as ordered," he rapped out.

Sek Nor sniffed as Dale went to hand over a datapad. "'Dale' is not your designation."

The medic hesitated, looking from one Kaminoan to the other.

Nala Se intervened. "Medic, stand to attention when Auditor Nor addresses you."

Somehow, Dale managed to straighten even more. It never ceased to amaze Nala Se how humans could arrange themselves into such rigid lines. "Yes, Administrator!" He swivelled to face Sek Nor. "Cee Tee One Two Dash Zero Niner Zero, reporting as ordered!"

Nala Se watched anxiously, but Sek Nor seemed mollified by Dale's compliance, finally taking the proffered datapad. Dale relaxed slightly and began walking them towards the observation booth. Two doors were set side by side in the otherwise unremarkable corridor, thick black Aurebesh denoting which room was which and a light pulsed over each door. The simulation room was red-lit, the observation room—green.

Dale waved towards the red-tinted door. "Both, ah, subjects, are inside the simulation chamber."

Nala Se noted that Dale seemed very uncomfortable with the word 'subject'. Hopefully he could keep that to himself. She had enough to worry about right now.

"Today's simulation is scenario twenty-one, variation five gee ee oh," Dale continued.

21-5 GEO. Nala Se's memory came to her rescue. Simulation 21 was object retrieval, difficulty level 5—the highest possible, based on Geonosis. Sek Nor was busy tapping away on the datapad, a small frown creasing his face.

Dale paused outside the door to the observation booth, his hand over the panel. "Would it be permissible to inform the, ah, subjects that they will be observed?" He looked at Nala Se for an answer and she looked at Sek Nor, hoping the medic would understand that she had no say here.

"No. It is not permissible. The subjects must be unaware of our presence."

"Yes, sir. If I may take a moment to darken the observation booth?"

Sek Nor nodded and the medic disappeared inside the room. After a moment, he reappeared. "You may enter now, Auditor, Administrator. Neither subject can see into the room."

For a moment, Nala Se was tempted to tell the medic the true stakes of this morning's test. How everyone on this station was due for reconditioning unless those two men inside managed to succeed. That in a few hours time, they might all find themselves on a slow transport to Kamino. Then the moment was gone. Sek Nor vanished into the room, the clone following after.

Nala Se was a scientist. For her, the universe was simple; mapped by mathematics and explained by science. She had long ago concluded that there were no great mysteries, no miracles, or no elusive higher powers. However, right now she wouldn't mind a little bit of help.

* * *

It was just a training sim, Jud told himself. Same as before. But it wasn't. Hops—that annoying, upbeat, idiot—was here too. If Jud failed, would Hops be failed too? He'd tried to ask Dale yesterday, but the medic had just smiled enigmatically and hadn't answered.

Jud was torn between wanting to do his usual poor job in the sim—surely if he did badly enough they would finally red-card him—and trying his best for Hops's sake. It was a simple enough exercise. He and Hops were waiting in the sim room, wearing the special sim room kit—the helmet looked like the training one from Kamino with a transparent face plate, but the rest of the armour looked like standard Phase I plates. The helmet HUD, instead of displaying an image of what was there, would display the simulation environment. The body glove under the armour would apply pressure where needed in order to simulate things like clambering over rocks, leaping from heights, explosions, and being hit with enemy fire. The floor of the simulation room was designed so that every time he took a step, it would compensate— effectively keeping him running on the spot. Dale would watch their progress from a transparisteel booth off the main room.

Jud hefted the decee, eyeing it critically. It looked and felt just like the real thing, reassuringly solid, even down to the weight imbalance that made the rifle ever so slightly front heavy. Even that annoying bump on the butt plate that always seemed to rub his shoulder raw was there. Were it not for the wide orange stripe on the stock of the weapon and around the tibanna cartridge, it would pass for a real one. Once again, he had to fight down a feeling of rightness that stemmed from being back in armour with a decee in his hands. He wanted to go back to Kamino, where he wouldn't be threat to anyone—didn't he?

Beside him, Hops was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, exhibiting all the signs of excitement that Jud was busy supressing. Jud could see Hops's grim expression clearly through the clear faceplate.

"Excited?" Hops asked.

Jud just grunted in reply, eliciting a groan from Hops.

"Oh come _on_!" Hops threw up his hands "You've already talked to me—it's not exactly a secret. I don't much feel like getting the silent treatment today, so you'll just have to vocalise."

Jud started to nod but caught himself. "I'm okay. Not excited though."

Hops made a disparaging noise at the back of his throat that somehow managed to convey disbelief and disgust all at once.

"Now what?" Jud grouched.

"Don't lie to me, _vod._ I'm not stupid."

"All evidence to the contrary," Jud muttered to himself. He continued at normal volume: "It's Jud, not _vod_. You'd think you'd've remembered that after all your pestering."

Hops just rolled his eyes and went back to bouncing. "Mandalorian word—means brother."

Jud was not impressed by Hops's attempt at multilingualism. "You're a clone, not a Mando. Stick to Basic."

Hops stopped bouncing and started to twist his torso back and forth, loosening up. "Sounds cooler though—exotic like."

If Hops was normal, Jud wasn't sure he wanted to be included in that number. He turned away so Hops wouldn't see the small smile that curved his lips upwards ever so slightly. It _was_ good to talk to another clone, shooting the breeze and jockeying for the upper hand in the verbal repartee. Then his smile disappeared. He still hadn't worked out what he was going to do when the sim started.

Speaking of which... Jud looked around. They'd been standing and talking in the sim room for a while, but Dale hadn't warned them that the sim would be starting soon—strange. It wasn't a very complicated mission: retrieve a Republic decoder from a Geonosian outpost and bring it back to Republic-held territory. In, out, blast anything with wings, or don't—depending on your strategy and how sneaky you wanted to be. His HUD was nothing more than a transparent pane between him and reality; it hadn't been activated yet. Jud looked around, ignoring Hops's enthusiastic lecture about the merits of Man-do-ah-day; whatever that was. Dale wasn't in the booth yet. Most unus—

"Triple Zero to Jud?"

Jud held a hand to the back of his helmet where Hops had cuffed him, scowling at the other man. The idiot was just grinning away at him, obviously pleased to have gotten his attention. Jud was sure that there were cadets who had longer attention spans that his roommate. No, make that freshly decanted clones with longer attention spans.

Hops cocked his head slightly to one side. "You wouldn't happen to be ignoring me now, would you, _vod_?"

Jud maintained his scowl, lowering his hand. "Whatever gave you that impression?" he growled. "And it's Jud. Not _vod_."

Hops was now spinning his decee end over end. "Suit yourself. When the ladies swarm the exotic-sounding clone in the cantina and you're left sitting alone, you'll wish you listened to me though." He slung the rifle over his back and started doing deep knee bends.

Jud's eyes were beginning to hurt from all the rolling they were doing, but as the wait dragged on, he got more and more edgy. Dale was always very organised. It was something that Jud secretly liked about the medic; unlike other medical personnel Jud had encountered on the med station, he treated Jud as normal trooper—a person—rather than an interesting medical problem or malingerer that was trying to be difficult.

Jud caught sight of the door to the observation booth opening and someone, presumably Dale, entering. Through a peculiar trick of the lighting, it was difficult to see into the observation booth. Dale didn't smile and wave at Jud like normal. Instead he was messing around with something in front of him—the instrumentation controls for the sim, Jud thought. Then the window went dark, a square of black in the white void around them.

A voice crackled through Jud's helmet speakers. _"The observation booth will be darkened for the duration of testing."_ Jud frowned. Dale's voice sounded strange; very controlled and clipped, biting off the ends of his words. Then Jud's HUD flickered into life in a sudden burst of light that had him blinking furiously while his eyes adjusted.

Dale continued: _"Standby. Simulation starting in two minutes."_

Jud tuned out the canned safety spiel that started rambling on about safety protocols. He was more than familiar with the sim routine by now; the powers that be knew he'd been in this room enough recently. He stole a glance at Hops who had finally stopped fidgeting and was now grimly doing last minute armour checks, all lightness and levity gone and replaced by a sense of menace and ruthless efficiency. Not a single movement was wasted. Jud almost felt sorry for the enemy sim forces. Aurebesh numbers flashed in front of Jud's eyes, the helmet's HUD overlaying them on the white world around him as the sim computer counted down. It reminded Jud that he still hadn't worked out what he was going to do once the sim began—fail or succeed.

The world went dark as the simulation kicked in. Suddenly they were on Geonosis. The red dust was frozen mid-swirl around their boots. In the distance, larties hung motionless in the sky. Bolts of Republic-blue plasma were suspended in mid-air. Green globs from Geonosian sonic cannons hovered, waiting for time to resume. The programmers from Kamino had obviously had a field day incorporating details from the Geonosian campaign into their databanks.

"_Standby. In ten …"_

Jud squinted up into the Geonosian sun. His HUD was busy highlighting the distinctive shapes of Geonosian hive spires that towered all around them, their dark entrances looking forbidding and sinister. There didn't seem to be any bugs around at the moment; small mercies. He realised that he had missed his HUD, his armour, the comforting scroll of data overlaying the world around him, the slightly acrid smell of air through the filters.

"…_eight, seven…"_

As Dale continued the count down, Jud looked down at his decee—it registered as having a full charge. Other data started appearing on his HUD, a small icon noting Hops's presence as [CT-96-3011]. Jud noted that neither he nor Hops had been tagged as being the 'lead' for the exercise. It looked like it was going to have to be a team effort then. He stole a sidelong look at Hops and sighed. Jud knew that grim stance. It was the stance of a man who wouldn't be happy until he'd made sure that every last stinking clanker and bug was down. A man who wouldn't be complete unless he was out there, making the enemy pay for the lives they'd taken. He couldn't let Hops down. He removed the CT tag from Hops's icon and replaced it with the other man's name. He had to go in this to win it, as much as he didn't want to.

"…_five, four…"_

The other man was annoying to be sure, but he wasn't like Jud—he didn't deserve to go to Kamino; he was a warrior. It was a lose-lose situation: Jud didn't want to pass the sim and be put in another unit where he might go on to let more of his brothers down, but he found himself unwilling and unable to let Hops down by deliberately throwing off the sim. First thing first, he decided, get through the sim. Perhaps he could speak to Dale afterwards? Get him to realise that he was no good as a trooper. Yes, that was a good plan, Jud decided.

"…_three…"_

"You good?" Hops asked from the other side of him.

"…_two…"_

"Yep," Jud said grimly. It didn't matter how many sims they threw at him, he wasn't going to be good enough. He wasn't a proper trooper anymore.

"…_one!"_

A wave of bugs erupted from one of the spires to their left as time started up. Jud's HUD showed a black cloud of bugs erupting from spires behind him. In the distance, lights flashed as the main force exchanged fire with the Geonosians. Adrenaline spiked in his veins and Jud tightened his grip on his decee. This was it. They had only moments before some kriffing bug spotted them. Focus soldier, he thought sternly. Do _not_ lose sight of your _real_ mission!

Adrenaline, fear, and excitement all sucked at him, blurring the line between detachment and the now. Chaos raged all around them and Jud began to suspect that this was going to be a lot harder than it looked.

* * *

_Thanks so much for reading and for being patient with the whole hiatus thing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next chapter will be out in the first week of November._

_Next time: Sek Nor makes things harder for Jud and Hops._


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